The only thing that stared at me was my mother’s madness. It was grotesque, gargantuan, and too enormous to be concealed. When I was younger, it came only during the harmattan. In those days, she would tear down the house, gather up her old and new panties and braziers and hang them on the outer… Continue reading HARMATTAN
Night falls slowly like dry leaves. The sad wings of darkness lurking beneath the late evening sun- Urgent, brutal, waiting, hoping-descended With it the hunger and want of shelter, I am the homeless still, cast about the streets of Lagos. The howling, the hooting, the barking, rhythms to a tired soul, A company to challenge… Continue reading NIGHT FALLS SLOWLY LIKE DRY LEAVES
The Philosophers’ Muse Who am I? Where did I come from? And where am I going? These kind of existential questions belie the root of all philosophical thinking. The answers to each one however is not always simple and is unique to every individual who must arrive at his answer through deep reflection and profound… Continue reading Morountodun Obaigbo’s Open Art Exhibition
Reading Adichie’s ‘Americanah’ and coming across this scene where young Ifemelu and young Obinze meet and they are talking proverbs and I do nothing but shake my head. I swear, speaking truthfully and verisimilitude in check, no one does that abeg. It just seems like a forceful attempt to find a page for proverbs in… Continue reading Adichie and the Curious Case of Sexism.
You barely passed WAEC after two sittings. Then you wrote JAMB and failed until the sixth time. You were given admission at the university. You could not respect your old balding self and you fell for cheap promises. Of girls. Of alcohol. Of better grades. You were given endless names of lectures who played ball.… Continue reading STRONG MAN TALE
Binyelum. It was a rainy Tuesday morning, I think. You were standing on the balcony. A lonely girl with a purple earpiece you were. Comfort came off those beats! That smile! It was really funny how my world was changed that instant, upon seeing you. I had been troubled by the sight of Oby about… Continue reading BINYELUM!
Yesterday. The newspaper had reported an incident. Swift! A man had squeezed a trigger. A body had dropped in a pool of blood, cold and sturdy. Peter read it in horror. God! Who could murder someone in such a way? And why on earth must murder be the way out? And worse still, kill your… Continue reading THOSE WHO KILL